Old and New Future
by SamCyberCat
Summary: Luke had returned to London seven years on and the first person he'd gone to visit was not the professor. Clive/Luke.


Notes – Written for a kinkmeme request that wanted anything Clive/Luke at all as long as you didn't have to squint to see the romance. Admittedly I'm terrible for making romance more present and less of a subtext, but I like the pairing so much that I wanted to try. Set seven years post-PL3 with heavy spoilers for that game.

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><p>"You didn't want to see the professor?" Clive asked, regarding Luke thoughtfully from the other side of the glass that separated them.<p>

"Well, I thought about it," Luke admitted, "And I will go see 'im eventually, but I wanted t' see you first…"

"Why?"

Clive was always hostile.

"'Cause… 'cause you're the future me," Luke fell back on, lamely.

"But I'm not," Clive said, "You shouldn't focus on something that you and the professor uncovered to not be true seven years ago."

Seven years? Had it been that long already?

"Look, is it so wrong that I wanted t' see you?" Luke snapped, "It's been forevah since I was back in London and… I just missed you, somehow."

"Oh." It seemed that Clive had no witty response to that. "Th-thanks…"

"So, um, 'ow 'as life been treatin' you?" Luke asked awkwardly.

"Do I have to point out to you where I am?" Clive reminded.

That was a bit of a no-brainer. Clive had been arrested for his crimes and from the look of things he'd probably never get out of prison without a radical change in government.

Luke mumbled, "I'm sorry, really I am. You did some terrible things, but if it were down t' me then you'd be out of there and in therapy at least."

"I appreciate the concern," Clive said, smiling thoughtfully, "London would probably be a much better place if you were the Prime Minister. But then I do think that some people are too nice for that sort of thing."

"You think I'm too nice?" Luke asked, flashing him the sort of smile Clive hadn't been accustomed to seeing on his face when Luke was a young boy.

Clive stammered, "Well, what I mean is… that… you still have that annoying accent!" He fell back on insults to get him out of that one.

"Seven years ovah seas couldn't cure me of it," Luke agreed, "Guess your future version of me wasn't that accurate aftah all."

"I… couldn't bring myself to talk like that," Clive confessed.

"You do seem like that sorta person," Luke agreed.

"Implying?"

"Um, you're a bit snobby," Luke confirmed.

"Hey!" Clive shot.

The indignant look on his face made Luke laugh.

"Well at least I'm not some kid," Clive tried.

"I ain't a kid anymore," Luke corrected, "I've bin twenteh for a few weeks now."

"Twenty? That old, huh?" echoed Clive, suddenly feeling unusually distant.

"Which says a lotta 'bout you if you're ten years oldah than me," reminded Luke.

"It's not that," Clive said, laughing hollowly. It was that a little bit, but he wasn't going to admit it to Luke. "It's just that, well, you're looking good for twenty. You've really grown up and they're going to be so proud of you."

Luke looked down and nodded vaguely.

"Is something the matter with that?" Clive pressed, confused.

"Yeah… it's just that I 'ave changed since they saw me. And I'm worried that they'll just see the big Luke an' not the little one anymore," he admitted.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Clive said, "You can finally prove that you've grown into a true gentleman."

"But what if I ain't a true gentleman? What if… I let 'im down?" Luke mumbled, "That's why I came t' you… 'cause you won't judge me like a gentleman, not like everone else."

"Luke, you're worrying too much," Clive assured him, "Take it from the first 'Big Luke', the professor would take you back even if you walked up to his door dressed in a bin bag."

Trying not to smirk at that, Luke said, "At least I'm not that bad. Th-thanks, Clive."

"No problem," he said, "Now, is that everything?"

"Not quite," Luke said, causing Clive to raise an eyebrow. "You see… I've been thinkin' about you a lot and… um, if I were to stay in London I'd want t' see you more."

"That's fine, I'd be glad of visitors," Clive replied.

"No, you don't get it," Luke said, fidgeting where he sat.

"What don't I get?" said Clive, frowning.

"That I… nevah mind. You wouldn't get it anyway," Luke said.

"Are you calling me simple?" pressed Clive, glaring. The glare was greeted with a broad smile from Luke.

"I like getting' you annoyed, Clive. You act so funneh and it's so easy t' wind you up. So I'd like t' see you more," he said, unhelpfully.

"So you're basically going to come here to pester me?" Clive prompted.

"Basic'ly," Luke answered, getting to his feet, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

He leaned forward, quickly pressing his lips against the glass then darting off before Clive had time to react. He'd just kissed the glass barrier. He'd… just come as close as he could to kissing Clive.

The convict stared after Luke's back until it was out of sight. Luke had tried to kiss him. Had what Clive missed before really been something that simple?

He sat back in the chair, waiting for the prison guard to come through to escort him away. In the meantime, he thought to himself that, yes, he could probably get used to this bold older Luke and his advances. The real future Luke might not speak the Queen's English, but he wasn't bad on the eyes either, if Clive did say so himself.

Somehow, life's imprisonment was starting to seem a lot less like a bad prospect to him.


End file.
